Chapter 21
Sun Hongping often felt that human fate was decided by God rolling the dice, which was why everything was so dramatic, or rather, why things were bound to develop endlessly in a bad direction.
She had thought that leaving the foot massage parlor would mean she could finally be free, but she never expected that stepping into Chen Guoli’s house would be another, even deeper trap.
Xiao Yao was sent into Sun Fusheng’s care. By then, Tang Juan had already left home with her son, leaving him alone to keep watch over the old house. When he saw Sun Hongping, his dry lips trembled as he could only call her “Guoguo” over and over, unable to say anything else.
Sun Hongping only asked him to take good care of Xiao Yao, then got back into the car and returned to Lincheng.
Things on Chen Guoli’s side were very troublesome. He was constantly on the run, saying that he would have to wait until his father’s affairs were settled before he could go out again. As a result, the two of them could not even keep living in their last house, so they sold it and moved into a smaller one.
This was not a good turn of events. Sun Hongping had never had much affection for him to begin with. When disaster struck, she wished they could each fly off on their own. But Chen Guoli was a merchant who valued status and advantage, so how could he be willing to let the person he had spent so much money bringing in simply abandon him and run away?
That refined air of his had all been cultivated by money. Once poverty’s illness took hold, no one could remain calm. He became increasingly agitated. When he could no longer afford name-brand cigarettes, he smoked cheap ones instead, filling the whole house with smoke. He could not afford good liquor either, so he drank the kind that came by the large jug for just a few dozen yuan. Perhaps it had been diluted with some industrial alcohol, because it got Chen Guoli drunk as a lord, and he often collapsed limply onto the sofa.
Later, he went alone to see Brother Jiang. In the same casual, unconcerned manner he had once used with other women, he asked whether he could take Sun Hongping back. He did not want her anymore. Brother Jiang was still sitting at the front desk with his legs crossed, lighting a cigarette. He told him it was impossible. She was already this age, and she had even had a child. What kind of joke was Chen Guoli playing on him?
Sun Hongping knew all of this. Zhang Yuefang had secretly told her. She said, “Sigh, your fate really is unfortunate too. How come Qingqing turned into a phoenix, while you ended up like a drowned rat?”
Some people blamed heaven and earth, blaming this and that. When there was nothing left to blame, all they could do was sum it up with one sentence: “You just have bad luck.”
When Chen Guoli went out carousing, Sun Hongping packed a few clothes, took all the money in the house, and left Chen Guoli, running off on her own. Before, she had thought that perhaps he might make a comeback. Chen Guoli was not a decent man, but when he had money, he was fairly generous, and she had still hoped to get a sum of child support from him. Now it seemed impossible, so why stay any longer?
Sun Hongping did not consider herself a good person. If she had cared about any sort of gratitude, she would have agreed to leave with Cao Yu back then. How could she possibly have gotten together with a rotten man like Chen Guoli? In the end, she had only been hoping for his money. She had always been quite clear-eyed about things. As long as she could make her own life a little better, what did it matter what means she used? Was being with one man really any different from being with another? There was not much difference between them anyway.
Not long after leaving Chen Guoli, perhaps a little over a year later, Sun Hongping worked as a makeup artist at a beauty salon. She had never had money to buy cosmetics growing up, so she was unfamiliar with all those bottles and jars. After being complained about several times, her boss withheld her final month’s wages and told her to leave. Her second job was as a waitress at a Hunan restaurant. It was all hard physical labor. Once summer came, the kitchen was stiflingly hot, as if it were on fire. Every day she went to the restaurant at five in the morning to help prepare the ingredients, worked until ten at night when the restaurant closed, and often came home so exhausted that she could barely move her legs. Sun Hongping no longer had any time to read the books on the shelf.
And later, an older woman who was cheaper and quicker with her hands took her place, leaving Sun Hongping with nothing to do again. Life became painfully tight. Any job that was even slightly respectable required an education, but she had none to show for herself.
Later, she began occasionally writing a few pieces. The manuscripts she sent to publishing houses piled up into a thick stack, but without exception, every one of them was returned. She thought she simply had no literary talent. Then, in the blink of an eye, she saw her own manuscripts, unchanged down to the last word, published in some small magazines under someone else’s name.
Then came the fifth year. Sun Hongping received a call from her father asking whether she could take Xiao Yao back. Sun Fusheng had fallen ill and was gradually beginning to forget many things. He could no longer take care of Xiao Yao, so he asked whether she could bring Xiao Yao home.
At that time, Sun Hongping could not find any work she could do. She lived in the smallest, most dilapidated room, constantly anxious that Chen Guoli might find her one day. She did not dare open her mouth and agree, but Xiao Yao was, after all, her own child.
Sun Hongping could not deny it. Once in a great while, she would regret it too, wishing she had never had a child. She could barely support herself, after all. Back then, she had only done it because Zhang Yuefang had said that having a child would let her secure living expenses for the rest of her life.
But when she saw Xiao Yao and discovered that the child’s eyes, brows, and nose were all so much like her own when she was little, Sun Hongping felt affection for him again. Xiao Yao loved to act spoiled, always clinging obediently to her and calling, “Mama, Mama.” He was not fussy either. He ate Chinese cabbage and green beans with great relish.
Although she did not have much money, Sun Hongping still paid for Xiao Yao to go to school. Even if the tuition always had to be delayed until the very last day before she could scrape it together, she still insisted that Xiao Yao go to school. He had to study. He had to have some backbone.
Xiao Yao had no toys. The only things in the house that could serve as entertainment were some secondhand books Sun Hongping had bought before. Their covers were worn and crumbling. On summer nights, when the room was stifling and airless, Sun Hongping would leave the light on and read stories to Xiao Yao.
Every now and then, she would see certain annotations in the books, and then she would sit lost in thought for quite some time.
Xiao Yao would hold onto her arm, not minding the heat, and call out, “Mama, Mama, I want green beans again tomorrow.”
It was only a few years later, when Xiao Yao had just started middle school, that Sun Hongping came home to find the door lock pried open and the whole house ransacked. The money she had taken when she left Chen Guoli had been painstakingly saved all this time for Xiao Yao’s high school education. No matter how hard life became, no matter how exhausted she was or how tightly she had to tighten her belt, she had never dared touch that money. And now all of it was gone.
Sun Hongping reported the theft to the police, but the place she rented was too remote, and there were no cameras anywhere nearby, so the case was repeatedly delayed. She also did not want to cry in front of Xiao Yao. When Xiao Yao asked why her eyes were red, she smiled and said she had read such a touching book. Xiao Yao said that he wanted to read it too.
Later, Brother Jiang came looking for her again. Chen Guoli had given him the address. Brother Jiang said that Chen Guoli had borrowed money from him to start another business, but had lost it all. Now he was completely broke, with nothing to his name and no money to pay him back, so he had come to find Sun Hongping.
“What does he have to do with me?” Sun Hongping was about to break down.
It had been like this before, when Tang Juan had dragged her along and sucked her dry to feed her younger brother. Now it was Chen Guoli’s turn.
Everyone was like this. They were all so disgusting.
Brother Jiang did not care in the slightest about her situation. He only said, “Are you two divorced? You’re not. You’re his wife. How could you have nothing to do with him?”
“If you want someone to blame, you can only blame your bad luck and your poor judgment of people.”
Bad luck.
Such terrible luck.
Brother Jiang squatted down and looked at her, the undisguised mockery in his voice. “Back then, that Cao guy treated you pretty well too, but you insisted on leaving with the rich Chen Guoli.”
Sun Hongping turned her head away stubbornly. “Don’t mention Cao Yu. He has even less to do with me.”
“He’s graduated now and gotten into a big hospital. He’s become a doctor. You really can’t hope to have anything to do with him anymore. I was even thinking that if he still had feelings for you, maybe he could help pay back some of the money your family owes.”
Sun Hongping clenched her teeth hard.
She heard Brother Jiang ask her, “So where’s the money? We’re old friends, after all. You know I’m not a very nice person. I don’t care about friendship, only money. I’m not asking you to pay it all back at once. You’ve got at least ten or twenty thousand, right?”
Something suddenly occurred to her.
Although she did not know how Chen Guoli had managed to find her again, the person who had pried open her lock and taken all her money some time ago was most likely Chen Guoli. He had probably resented her for taking all the money and leaving without saying a word back then.
“I don’t have any,” Sun Hongping said. “He stole all my money a while ago.”
Brother Jiang laughed. “You two married couples really do tell the same story. He says you stole his money, and you say he stole yours. Why should I care which one of you stole from the other?”
Sun Hongping had always known that his fists especially liked to land on other people’s shoulders.
It had been like that before.
It was like that now, too.
Those were about the only things Brother Jiang said that day that could still be considered bearable. The rest was filthy and obscene. Sun Hongping forgot it all.
When Xiao Yao came home from school, he found that part of the table leg was missing. There were water marks all over the floor, as though it had just been mopped.
That night, Sun Hongping went to bed very early. Xiao Yao quietly pushed open the bedroom door and saw that she was already lying down. A small lump rose from the plank bed.
The not-quite-bright light cast a little fan-shaped patch across the pitch-black floor. Xiao Yao filled the hot-water bottle with water, tested the temperature, then quietly carried it inside. Half-kneeling beside Sun Hongping’s pillow, he asked softly, “Mama, are you having period cramps?”
The room was too dark. The little bit of light from outside could not illuminate his mother’s face. Xiao Yao slipped the hot-water bottle inside and felt around with his hand. The blanket immediately became warm.
“I propped up the leg of the table outside with some books we don’t use anymore. That table is really old. Maybe the rats have chewed on it. But it doesn’t wobble anymore.”
A muffled whimper rose in Sun Hongping’s throat, only to be forced back by her tongue and tightly clenched teeth, swallowed down into her stomach.
She reached out and touched Xiao Yao’s head. Xiao Yao lowered his head to let her touch it, then mumbled that his hair seemed to have grown long again.
After washing up, Xiao Yao came over carrying his quilt and slept beside her. He told Sun Hongping that if her stomach still hurt during the night, she should wake him up so he could make her some sugar water.
For the first time in a long while, Sun Hongping patted him the way she had when he was little, gently singing to him.
Xiao Yao was exhausted from school. The moment his head touched the pillow, he fell asleep.
In the middle of the night, someone began pounding hard on the door.
Xiao Yao woke with a start and saw that Sun Hongping was already sitting up.
The “bang, bang, bang” from outside went on without end.
Xiao Yao sat up, and only then could he clearly see that his mother’s entire left cheek and neck were covered in bruises. Sun Hongping’s eyes were frighteningly red.
Dragging her leg, she rummaged through the cabinet beside the bed and pulled out a brown paper envelope, then pressed it into Xiao Yao’s palm.
Xiao Yao watched as large tears poured from his mother’s blood-red eyes.
Sun Hongping hugged him tightly. For the first time, she cried like a little child herself. She gripped his shoulders and told him to climb out through the window.
“Hurry. Go.”
“You go too... You go out first.”
He gripped Sun Hongping’s hand and discovered that her hand was swollen too.
Sun Hongping shook her head. She could barely make a sound anymore.
“Xiao Yao, Mama... can’t walk anymore.”
Her legs could no longer move. Sun Hongping could only remain on the bed, propping herself halfway up as she spoke to Xiao Yao.
Outside, whether it was Brother Jiang or Chen Guoli, someone was still crashing against the bedroom door, like a bell tolling to claim a life.
“Xiao Yao, take the money. You have to go to school. No matter how hard or exhausting it is, you have to study. Even if anyone tells you not to, you have to keep studying.”
“A person’s horizons and knowledge are what determine how many choices they have, how many roads they can take.”
She cried so hard she could no longer make a sound, leaving only a hoarse rasp.
“Don’t... become like me.”
“Xiao Yao.”
Sun Hongping pressed her hand against Xiao Yao’s back. She had no strength left, so she could only push him very lightly.
“Run.”
Thank you for the love you gave Mama, and thank you for bringing her, for “Guoguo,” a real home.
The cramped rented room was black, so dark that she could not see her own hand in front of her face. Outside, the moon knew nothing of sorrow, its light spilling across the earth.
At first, Xiao Yao dragged his feet and walked slowly.
Then he quickened his pace.
Until, finally, he emptied the air from his lungs and began running in great strides.
Then his foot twisted. He stumbled forward several steps before falling hard onto the ground.
The light was too bright, stabbing his eyes like needles, and so the blood became scorching tears that streamed down his face.
He ran to the police station where officers were on duty and begged them for help.
The wailing sirens of the police cars pierced through the pitch-black alleyways.
Qin Yao stood outside the window of Sun Hongping’s home, and suddenly tears began pouring from her eyes uncontrollably.
She even meant to climb in through the window, her fingernails scraping marks into the old wooden frame.
“Mo...”
Before the sound could fully leave her mouth, Chen Huai grabbed hold of her.
And then she disappeared, leaving only her tears continuing to fall.
As though sensing something, Sun Hongping turned her head.
But all she could see was an empty window, with a faint breeze blowing in from outside.
For some reason, she suddenly felt a piercing pain.
It was as though the tip of a needle had punctured her heart, and a dense, tightly packed ache welled up inside her.
The night wind brushed past the windowsill. Sun Hongping looked out the window, seeming to hear someone calling her, but there were only the shadows of trees outside.
“You said we couldn’t interfere. No matter what happens, the story in the photograph won’t change. If we interfere, we might die an even worse death.” Chen Huai’s lips trembled. “...Like before.”
That feeling of having seemingly killed someone with his own hands was something Chen Huai did not dare experience a second time.
Sun Hongping was not beaten to death. Chen Guoli did not have the nerve to kill someone. But there were far too many ways to drive a person into a dead end. Before Chen Guoli pried open the door, she had already drunk pesticide. Choking as it entered her windpipe, she collapsed onto the hard bedboard that hurt to lie on, coughing weakly, then quietly waited for death to come.
When Chen Guoli entered, he was startled and ran outside. The police shone flashlights at him and surrounded him completely. He said that he had not killed her.
Outsiders asked, Who was the person who died in that room?
Someone who goes out selling herself.
Tsk, tsk, tsk. No wonder. She had no sense of self-respect at all. People these days, really.
Sigh.
They sighed, and then no one ever knew that she had lived, or how she had lived. They even thought that she had lived an unclean life.
If you took up a lowly profession, then you were a lowly person. No one wanted to know how good Sun Hongping had been. No one was willing to know what kind of person Sun Hongping had been.
People were always like this.
And so, amid misunderstanding, prejudice, and the little whispers of the world around her, she silently lay on her own bed and died.
And all she had ever wanted was to go to school, to become a writer, to build a small home with her child.
The writing in the diary reached its final paragraph.
“Xiao □ (blurred), I forgot to tell you back then. If one day, someone is willing to give you everything he has and asks whether you are willing to leave with him.
“Perhaps you can try, and say, ‘I’m willing.’”
【Sun Hongping, end.】
No comments:
Post a Comment